In the interest of self-preservation...

I may have to delete the last post. Scholar doesn't like my blog and would probably never visit it, but he would literally have a baby if he knew I was airing our dirty laundry. Frankly, I don't want to clean up the placenta.

I will leave the summarization of our fight to a terse "it sucked." I maintained that I had actually been teaching while working at the agency. Scholar was adamant that I had only been presenting. I wasn't a teacher, I was a presenter. Because when I say I was a teacher, I am apparently misleading people into believing that I worked in a school district (even though whenever I always describe myself as a prevention educator for a crisis center). The distinction was so important to the both of us that we actually ended up screaming at one another for a good forty minutes. I felt Scholar was being dismissive of my experience and skill. Scholar pretty much thought I was nuts. We're usually such good communicators that when we cross wires, it ain't a nice thing.

We're good now. But I'm still right. There is no doubt in my mind that I was TEACHING. But the truth is that Scholar only thinks of teaching as delivering information on a core subject, keeping a grade book and collecting a paycheck. As I said in my little poem, we'll leave him to that. For now. But sometimes his limitations smack me in the head with their 2 x 4s and leave me thinking, "huh?" I have a couple of goose eggs this morning. It's not nice to be crying hysterically just before bed.